Six Ways Till Sunday
by Madrigal-in-training
Summary: Screwing up a space-time jutsu was not Naruto's intention. Neither was getting adopted as Mito's younger sister. Or catching the eye of the soon-to-be most powerful shinobi in the world. Also, Madara was starting to freak her out. Flowers could be interpreted as a declaration of war, right? fem!Naruto


_**Screwing up a space-time jutsu was not Naruto's intention. Neither was getting adopted as Mito's younger sister. Or catching the eye of the soon-to-be most powerful shinobi in the world. Also, Madara was starting to freak her out. Flowers could be interpreted as a declaration of war, right? Threesome w/fem. Naruto**_

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Naruto's first reaction when she saw the instructions for the Kage Bunshin jutsu was to stifle a scream. It wasn't fair! Why the hell did the first jutsu have to be a harder version of the skill she was never able to do in class?! The blonde girl huffed, and plopped down on the ground. She was just about to start practicing the seals for this new jutsu, when a stray thought suddenly crossed her mind.

_Mizuki-sensei never said I had to learn the _first _jutsu in this scroll, _she remembered giddily.

And since the Bunshin was clearly her worst jutsu, it would show bad tactical planning to focus on it for the test. Yep, planning that would definitely prove why she shouldn't become a genin. In fact, Naruto was sure that her sensei gave her this much leeway so she could pick a jutsu that was much more awesome and easier for her!

With a slightly deranged giggle, the kunoichi-in-training kept unrolling the scroll and looking over the cool jutsus inside. She was actually a little disappointed as she read through them: suicide jutsu, suicide jutsu, suic- ooh, a sensory deprivation… nah, it was a genjutsu, suicide jutsu, and even more suicide jutsus. The guy who wrote them had signed his name below each one. Tobirama Senju? Wasn't he the Nidaime Hokage?

"Man, that guy must have been a badass," Naruto whispered to herself, more than a little impressed as she read some of his techniques, "Also, possibly an emo like Sasuke-teme."

She kept on unfurling the scroll, entirely skipping over anything that involved seals, since even she wasn't crazy enough to goof around with fuuinjutsu. Anything that involved a bloodline was also out, so that got rid of anything written by the Shodaime. Naruto had almost reached the end of the scroll, when she came upon an attack that she actually had a chance of using.

"Time Displacement Field," Naruto read aloud, "A time-space ninjutsu that freezes any living creature within a three meter radius until a pre-set store of chakra is used up and the user traverses the fields of time to a past juncture of…" The jutsu appeared to be simple enough; seventeen hand seals and a ridiculous amount of chakra. Well, she could handle _that_.

"Not as cool as the Exploding Clone technique a few meters back," Naruto muttered, "But at least I can do this one." And besides, did it really matter how cool it was if it would help her graduate?

Naruto painstakingly reread the description of the jutsu, which was yet another creation by Tobirama Senju, who was rapidly displacing the Yondaime as her favorite Kage. After she was sure of her reading, Naruto began forming the seals. Hare, dragon, monkey- the girl slowly focused her chakra against the pads of her fingertips- ox, tiger, dog- her hands began to tingle as the familiar rush of energy suffused them from within- and, finally, she released her chakra with the last hand seal: snake.

Had Naruto Uzumaki been any other genin, the jutsu wouldn't have had the power to be activated. Had Naruto Uzumaki been any other jinchuuriki, the energy would have roasted her body from within. But since she was an Uzumaki and the jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi no Yoko…

A mighty burst of red-gold demonic chakra and a young girl's scream marked the activation of the jutsu. A second later, the forest clearing was empty, and an entire timeline was being rewritten. Everything had changed.

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Naruto slowly stirred as the semi-loud voices of two angry boys pierced her ears.

"Nii-san, you can't just bring some strange girl into our Compound!"

"She's unconscious, otouto! I can't just leave her in the forest either…"

"Shh, I think she's waking up…"

"Owwww," Naruto moaned, as her eyes fluttered open. She squeezed them shut a second later as the sharp rays of light hit her sensitive sight. Waiting a few moments for her eyes to adjust, she blearily opened them again.

Two boys were kneeling over her. The one on her left looked to be her own age, with spiky white hair and curious red-brown eyes. He had three bright red lines on his face: one on each cheek and the third on his chin. On her other side was a boy that she presumed to be his brother, although they didn't look anything alike. This boy had a slightly tanned complexion with long, dark hair and equally dark brown eyes. Unlike the white haired boy, he seemed to be two or three years older than her.

"Who are you?" was the first question out of Naruto's mouth, though it came out rather disjointed because of her rough, scratchy throat.

The first boy blinked. "You need some water," he said abruptly, lifting up what looked to be a canteen and placing it against her mouth. Naruto obediently opened her mouth and greedily drank in the offered water. The cool drink was a Kami-blessed relief against the discomfort of her throat.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, once the boy had withdrawn the canteen. She shot him a wide, fox-like grin, at which he only blinked down reproachfully at her.

"You're welcome, but you'll have to tell us who you are," the second boy, the older one, said, as he helped her sit up and placed her against the wide trunk of an old oak tree. Naruto noticed that his hands were calloused at the fingertips and against the crevice of the palm- the signs of someone who used a kunai or shuriken on a regular basis.

Her smile faded somewhat as she got a better look at them. They were both wearing black tunics and pants- which didn't really matter to her- but over that, they had a light set of red-colored armour. A sword was attached to the younger boy's back, whereas all she had was her orange jumpsuit and a handful of shuriken. Naruto's distress only grew once she realized that her body was too stiff to move properly.

"State your name and purpose for being here," the white-haired boy said firmly.

"Why should I?" the girl replied, staring over at them boldly, "Tell me your name first."

"You're in our Clan lands, so we don't have to tell you anything," the boy disagreed, "Moreover, you are outnumbered and too weak to fight. We already took away your shuriken. Nice weapons… but not really suited for a civilian."

"I'm not a civilian!" Naruto retorted, struggling up to a better sitting position so as to glare at him, "I'm Naruto Uzumaki! And I'm going to be the first- first-" Her mouth moved wordlessly, as she tried to rack her mind to remember what she was just about to say. Her horror at not being able to remember made her overlook the significant glance shared by the two boys.

"And what are you doing here?" the second boy asked gently, grabbing her chin and forcing it up to look into mildly terrified blue eyes.

"I- I- I don't remember," Naruto mumbled, going into shock, "Oh god, I don't remember anything! My name's Naruto Uzumaki and I want to- I want to-"

The girl's nearly incoherent stuttering was brought to a close by a sharp snap to the side of her neck. As the blonde girl surrendered herself to the blissful embrace of darkness, the older of the two strange boys caught her in his arms. Her last sight was of worried brown eyes and shocked red-brown ones.

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"You don't think she's actually an Uzumaki, do you?" Tobirama asked, once they had secured the blonde girl and brought her over to their camping spot. They were still a few hours away from the Compound, but safely enough in their Clan's lands to be safe from enemy reprisals.

"I don't know," his brother admitted, looking over at the girl thoughtfully, "I've never met an Uzumaki without red hair or wearing such oddly made fabrics. Can you read her chakra?"

"No problem," the younger of the two replied, slowly extending thin strands of chakra from his body until they encircled around the slender girl's. He drew in a sharp breath that earned him a worried glance from his brother. He ignored the older boy to step closer to the sleeping figure, and pour more chakra into her body.

"So strong," Tobirama whispered, eyes glazing over, "So much chakra…" Each person's chakra appeared to be different for him, and this little slip of a girl had an amazing chakra-scape. It was like the only glimpse he ever received of an ocean, only turbulent in a storm of wind and lightning. Clouds, heavy with rain, shook against the skyline, as wild, foam-tipped waves crested below. It was terrifying in its' ambiguity- no warmth or cruelty, but cold, _cold_ power lined by a sickle of danger.

"Tobi!" his brother shouted, and the white-haired boy found himself abruptly ripped away from the addictive chakra by the older boy. Tobirama blinked and shivered a little as his vision suddenly filled with sights of reality: the lowly burning fire over which their stew cooked, two padded sleeping bags, and a freshly cut log that they had been laid down for a seat.

"You didn't have to do that," Tobirama muttered, rebelliously, though even he knew that he couldn't have pulled himself away from that chakra before it drowned him.

"Are you okay?" Hashirama asked, ignoring his protest. Keen brown eyes flickered from him to the sleeping girl laying on his mat. "Is she dangerous?"

"She could be," Tobirama said, his neutral answer evoking a frown, "But her chakra… I have never seen so much chakra in anyone but the Uzumaki elders."

"So there's a good chance that she's an Uzumaki then," Hashirama sighed, "She identified herself by the name, at least. We'll have to take her into the Compound. She's part of an allied clan."

"Possibly unofficially," his brother added, "A blonde Uzumaki would have made the rounds, especially with chakra like that. It was more than you and me combined."

"We'll take her in the morning then," Hashirama said, "I'm not entirely happy about this, but there's nothing else we could do. She seems to have lost her memory…"

"Maybe she got into a fight with a Yamanaka," Tobirama offered, "Admittedly, they don't live around here, but she could have escaped and made her way to the Senju for help."

"The Yamanaka can repress memories, but there's always side effects like glazed eyes and trembling," Hashirama counteracted, "She seemed perfectly lucid, even alert you could say."

"Perhaps they improved their jutsu?" Tobirama suggested.

Hashirama frowned again, "...that would be worrisome."

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Kawarama Senju giggled to himself as he chased after the small retinue of the Clan's shinobi who hurried in from the doors with Hashi-nii and Tobi-nii. Hashi-nii had a sleeping figure against his back, which made the six-year-old Senju skitter to a stop as he looked closely at her. She was kinda pretty, in a really intense and wild way. Her long hair was the brightest shade of blonde he had ever seen and the shiny orange fabric clinging to her tanned limbs was different from any clothing Kawarama had ever owned, even the silk tunic he got for his first formal festival. The child was dazzled.

"Nii-san, nii-san!" the boy called, grinning as he hurried up to his oldest brother, "Who's that girl, nii-san? Is she your new girlfriend?"

"Kawa-chan!" Hashirama exclaimed, scandalized, "Where did you get that idea?"

"Itama-nii said that you kidnapped some strange girl from your mission because you couldn't get a date!" the boy admitted cheerfully, making a stop in front of the retinue. He ignored the other shinobi's disapproving or amused gazes as he reached out, without any hesitation, to tug at the girl's bright hair.

"So soft," he noted, surprised, "She's really pretty nii-san. Why are you carrying her? Can't she walk? Is she tired? You don't carry me any more when _I'm_ tired."

"She's asleep Kawa-chan, and you're too old to be carried around whenever you like," Hashirama said, dutifully ignoring his other brother's snickers, "We will have to take her to father now, so I shall see you later."

The child nodded in understanding and stepped away to let the small retinue pass. He wondered why such a pretty girl had to see his father. Typically, people only went to his father when they were in trouble. Kawarama hoped that the pretty girl was not in any trouble.

As Kawarama walked away, he briefly wondered about the three thin lines scratched on either side of the girl's cheeks. They were… cute.

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Batsuma Senju was not an inherently cruel man. He was a hard man, but that was mainly due to the circumstances of his life. He had to make tough decisions, that would put individual clansmen in danger, but protect the integrity of the Clan. He had to push his sons, because it was better that they hate him rather than themselves should they fail to save a comrade- or Kami forbid, their own lives. He had to negotiate temporary alliances, overlook every aspect necessary to run a Clan of the size of the Senju, and set aside time to train himself to an adequate level.

Although he rarely showed it, Batsuma was proud of his sons, especially his two elder sons: Hashirama and Tobirama. Hashirama was just as skilled as his father, with all the grace and empathy of his late wife, Kaora. Although traits such as those were a hindrance to his shinobi career, Batsuma was never able to bring himself to end them. He settled his own conscience by pushing his son even harder in his training with incredible results. Hashirama was most likely the strongest Senju of his generation- and any of the preceding five.

His other son, Tobirama, was the complete opposite of his brother. Tobi's stoic, aloof, and introspective personality belied a mind that was as sharp as any Nara (quite fitting, since his grandfather was born from that Clan). On a superficial level, he was clearly Kaora's son: white hair, reddish-brown eyes, and those red markings that lined his face. Skillwise though, his mastery of Suiton was just a step below his father's, and Batsuma had the advantage of years of experience to back up natural talent. One day, he was sure, Tobirama would be able to draw water from any source, which would put him and head and shoulders above any current practitioner of Suiton Elemental jutsu.

Batsuma was a proud man, and with good reason. He had three capable and skilled sons (and Kawarama, who was showing quite a bit of promise for a six-year-old), to whom he could leave the leadership of the Senju to. His Clan was large, respected, and powerful. He had a strong alliance with his cousin clan, the Uzumaki, and a strong Compound defense, powered by a seal array from said allied clan. The only thing that could have possibly brought Batsuma more joy was if each and every Uchiha suddenly dropped dead the next day.

As he looked at the sleeping blonde girl cradled in Hashirama's arms though, Batsuma felt the urge to intermittently twitch. It was times like this when he remembered why the Senju were the only Clan to ally with the Uzumaki, despite their battle prowess, loyalty, and mastery of fuuinjutsu. As his father-in-law had (on many occasions) said, the Uzumaki were just plain troublesome.

This girl looked poised to continue that unofficial tradition. Her looks were classical Uzumaki- a hint of aristocracy hidden under childish youth- but her colouring reminded him of the wandering clans northward, in Kumo. She was very young- little older than Itama-chan- but her chakra capacity was mind-boggling. Batsuma himself had possibly a third of her chakra stores.

With a thoughtful frown, he reached down and quickly divested her of that bulky orange eyesore. It was slightly difficult to maneuver her limp arms while his blushing son held her- and his other, equally red, son gawked and stammered protests- but Batsuma managed. Internally, he rolled his eyes. He had no intention of stripping the prepubescent child, and was even amused by the perverted conclusions his innocent children were making. He even heard Tobirama sigh in relief when he left her plain white shirt alone!

Seduction training. He would have to order it for his boys later.

He gripped the bottom of the shirt and pulled it partially upward, to reveal a toned but clear stomach. Ignoring Hashirama's mild choking (seduction training was _definitely _in order), Batsuma placed his hand on her stomach and channeled chakra. He was fascinated, though unsurprised, when inky spirals spread from his fingertips and formed a seal far more complex than any he had ever seen before. Troublesome.

"Call Nadeko-san, and tell him that we found one of his strays," the older man ordered brusquely, removing his hand from the girl's stomach and ignoring the questioning gaze of his sons, "Put her in a guest room, level one containment." He hesitated. "Hashirama, you will be her guard for the next four hours. I'll send someone over to bring dinner."

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Hashirama pasted a polite smile on his face, as he thanked the servant girl who brought him dinner. She merely squeaked in reply, as she handed him a bowl of soup, a few hunks of nutty bread, and some smoked meat, and then scurried away. The dark-haired teen sighed at her reaction. The startled fear with which she regarded him was nothing new, although it had worsened from the mild wariness of his childhood.

They feared the eldest sons of the clan head. Tobirama, for his unnaturally keen intellect and albino (_spirit-possessed_, some old women whispered) colouring, and him, for his strong connection to nature chakra. He had been born extremely skilled in Mokuton, turning the clan's mild affinity for growing healing herbs and poisonous plants, into a versatile and deadly shinobi art. Few of his ancestors had shared this intimate connection with nature, and none had… pleasant deaths.

Madness followed the man who would tame nature to his will.

There were only two other wielders of the Mokuton- hardly enough men to form such a conclusion, his father had claimed with scorn- but that did not stop his clan's reactions. A few members treated him with barely hidden fear and distrust, and others looked at him with something akin to greed. They wanted him to grow stronger and when- _if_- he turned berserker, to set him loose upon the Uchiha Clan.

Hashirama's stomach recoiled in disgust, and he pushed his bowl away. He had no desire to continue the cycle of bitterness and bloodshed in the shinobi world, especially with- his hand rose involuntary to a small wooden fan clipped under his armor- Madara's clan.

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End file.
